


Entirely Human

by kaislinn



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Making Out, Season 9 Spoilers, post "Holy Terror"
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-07
Updated: 2013-12-07
Packaged: 2018-01-03 21:20:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1073170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kaislinn/pseuds/kaislinn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Cas.”</p><p>The word rang in his ears, reverberating in his skull, breaking his self control apart at the seams. He was an angel again now, an angel in a seemingly never ending war, and yet Castiel found he had never felt so human before as he stood in front of this broken man. </p><p>"You're all I have. All I have left."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Entirely Human

**Author's Note:**

> First time posting work on here. It's shitty but I had muse so I grabbed it and ran with it. Enjoy! 
> 
> Not beta'd. Could be riddled with mistakes I missed, don't hesitate to send me a correction or something.
> 
> No but really. Please feel free to send me critiques, comments, questions, etc.! I don't write a lot and I love feedback. Thanks!

The moment he appeared, he could tell the man before him was drunk. He knew what had happened, of course, but had been told to stay away.

“Cas.”

The word rang in his ears, reverberating in his skull, breaking his self control apart at the seams. He was an angel again now, an angel in a seemingly never ending war, and yet Castiel found he had never felt so human before as he stood in front of this broken man. _His_ broken man. Neither Castiel nor Dean were men of many words, and in that moment Castiel found he had nothing to say. No words of comfort that could help Dean now.

Instead, Castiel just opened his arms.

(Looking back on this day, as he would frequently in the weeks to come, Castiel could not pinpoint what it was that urged him to hug grieving Dean. He had never been the one to instigate a hug, and Castiel had never previously understood, even as human, how important an embrace could be. He knew now.)

Dean did not hesitate as he took two large steps toward Castiel and sagged into his arms, burrowing his head against Cas' shoulder. He had no trouble supporting Dean's weight, and yet as the man shook in his arms, Castiel's knees buckled. Soon they were both sitting on the couch, Castiel enfolding his arms around him as Dean clutched tightly to Castiel's coat.

“You're all I have. All I have left,” came Dean's muffled voice, and then the tears started flowing.

Castiel held Dean for a long time that night, sitting on the couch in the bunker as the broken man, _his_ broken man, cried himself into a fitful sleep. Castiel was not sure he had ever seen Dean cry as he had that evening, and the angel wondered if these tears were the pent up grief and sadness that had been consuming Dean for so long.

Castiel remembered the first night he had cried, as a human. It was in the beginning days of his new Earth bound existence. He had been kicked out of a store for his smell and appearance, apparently, and had slept next to a dumpster that night. Waking up in the middle of the night, Castiel had forgotten for a moment what all had happened to him, thought for a moment he was still an angel, still a creature of God.

Yet soon it had crashed over him, and that wave of grief had brought more tears than Castiel had been aware the human body was able to produce.

Castiel understood sadness, and understood how much Dean had needed a release. That didn't change the empty feeling in his gut, the heart wrenching sadness he had felt when he first “zapped”into the bunker and had seen Dean with that broken look in his eyes.

Castiel found himself being grateful of his ability to fly himself around again, to be able to hear Dean's prayers. God, he had missed those prayers more than anything. Castiel had come the moment he had felt Dean's prayer, his human soul crying out for Sammy and Kevin and Bobby and his father and everyone else who had ever left him. It didn't matter what Castiel was doing, the war he was fighting. It never did when it came to Dean, and Castiel wouldn't dream of leaving him even now as he slept and Castiel's war raged on somewhere without him.

Castiel's musing were interrupted when Dean stirred in his arms, his head turning up from where it had finally landed in Castiel's lap when he had fallen asleep.

“Cas?” Dean grunted, obviously confused. His eyes were red, and the dark circles around his eyes made his face look strangely young and very old at the same time.

It didn't take long before he was pushing himself up, and the confusion in his eyes shifted quickly back to sorrow. Dean glanced at his hands, which still gripped Castiel's shirt tightly, then glanced at Cas' pant leg where his face had been pressed, seeing the dark wet marks of the mixture of drool and tears.

A blush rose faintly in Dean's cheeks, and he released Cas' shirt and shifted so he was sitting up fully on the couch. A look at the clock informed Dean that he had been asleep for nearly six hours, and it was now 3 AM.

“Good morning, Dean.” Castiel tried carefully. He wanted desperately not to be asked to leave, but he knew now that Dean was no longer so intoxicated he may no longer be wanted. Castiel had, after all, been told not to come see Dean after that dreadful phone call announcing what Gadreel had done. Dean had needed time to “get shit together” and “figure out what to do next”, and Dean had known Castiel had “enough on his plate as it is.”

Castiel had respected Dean's wishes, as hard as that had been, but now he was here, as per Dean's intoxicated prayer's request. Castiel had no desire to leave his side now.

“Shit. Shit Cas, I'm sorry. Sorry you had to see me like that,” Dean said, scrubbing his face with his hands, trying desperately to avoid eye contact.

“Dean,” Cas raised his hand to put it on Dean's shoulder, and was comforted when Dean did not flinch and pull away, so he continued. “Apologies are not necessary.” Dean did not look convinced, and he started to move away, his eyes guarded. Castiel was stricken, wishing desperately to pull Dean back into his arms.

“Cas...”

“No, don't. Please Dean. There is nowhere I would rather be than here with you.” Cas licked his lips nervously, and tried again. “For you. I want to be here for you as... you have been there for me.”

“There for you?!” Dean's voice spiked, echoing off the walls in the bunker. “Cas... Cas, I have never been there for you. I... I pushed you away, I was...” Dean trailed off, and he took a deep breath before continuing. “Dammit, Cas, I was terrified! But that does not give me any excuse for what I did. You needed me, and I couldn't.- I didn't help you!” Dean's eyes bore into Castiel's now, daring Cas to contradict him.

Castiel made up his mind quickly and, using all the resolve he could muster from his time as a human, he grabbed the front of Dean's shirt and pulled the man's face to his own. As their lips connected, Castiel braced himself to be pushed away, to be yelled at, to be forced away from Dean again.

Dean didn't move for two whole seconds, before he slowly put his hands on Castiel's shoulders and pulled back. Dean's eyes were clear and green, his moist lips slightly parted, and Castiel struggled to figure out something to say. _A_ _nything_ to say _._ It turned out he did not need to say anything at all, however, because Dean's grip on Castiel's shoulders tightened as he pulled Castiel back to him.

The second time their lips touched, everything was different. This kiss was warmer, stronger, and in an instant Dean's arms wound behind Castiel's neck, one hand sliding into his hair.

Cas put one hand on Dean's waist, placing the other on Deans cheek as he kissed back fervently. Tongues met and Dean hummed with appreciation before leaning into him, pushing them both back until Dean was laying on Castiel, pushing him into the couch cushions. Castiel squirmed underneath him, pulling Dean's body against his so they could be closer. Cas wanted to be closer; he could not possibly be close enough to this man.

Castiel felt as though he was on fire, trailing his hands up Dean's back, clutching at the fabric of his shirt as Dean bit down on his lower lip. Dean rocked his hips into the angel underneath him, making Cas buck his own hips up at the friction. Castiel moaned softly, pulling at Dean's shirt almost desperately.

This made Dean smile into the kiss before he broke off and began planting kisses on Castiel's jaw, casually trailing his tongue down to his neck, then back up to Cas' ear.

“Dean,” Castiel whimpered, his head pressing back into the arm rest of the couch as Dean's kisses turned to small nips, traveling down to Cas' collar bone.

“Don't talk. I want to touch you,” Dean growled, reaching down to pull off Cas' shirt, before he stopped and looked up to stare into his eyes. All gruffness suddenly gone, Dean pulled back. “May I touch you?” he asked quietly, evidently nervous about the answer.

“Thought you would never ask,” Cas replied, helping pull his shirt off the rest of the way in one quick movement. The smile that that earned from Dean was the most beautiful thing Castiel thought he'd ever seen, and in that moment, Castiel forgot he had Grace. All he felt was entirely human.

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know how to end this without writing actual smut, which I am not confident in my ability to do. So there you go: a crappy “fluttering black curtains”, “you assume they're going to do it you just don't get to read it” ending. Yeah, I know, I hate them too. Sorry. 
> 
> Please feel free to send me critiques, comments, questions, etc.! I don't write a lot and I love feedback. Thanks!


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